


try me

by caffeine_therapy



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, because fuck ME, coffee shop AU, just deal with me ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-05-30 23:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19413871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeine_therapy/pseuds/caffeine_therapy
Summary: Coffee shop AU."No, you don’t look boring to me, but then, you’re here in this coffee shop on a weekday like all of us boring people so…” Eve shrugged, and the stranger leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “Other than that, I wouldn’t say you look boring, um…?”“Villanelle.” The stranger said. At least Eve had a name now. “Looks can be deceiving, but do I get a chance to show you I’m not?”





	1. Chapter 1

Eve felt nauseous.

Elena’s cup clinked loudly against the saucer as her monologue about some… dental treatment, Eve didn’t know anymore, went on and on and on. Kenny looked happy, though, she noticed. But then, whenever Elena was concerned, he always did, even if the conversation was as dull as a butter knife.

Lately, as a way of ‘making Eve less of a hermit’, as Elena had delicately put it, they had been frequenting a small coffee shop after work. At first, it had been absolutely against her will, but Elena’s relentless tries had finally ended up in Eve spending five bloody pounds on a coffee she didn’t even like – too much sugar, too much cream, too much everything – but that helped to pacify her friends’ worry.

Elena’s excited voice and Kenny’s solemn nods were background noise as Eve’s mind wandered, lost in thought.

Niko had left a month ago.

It had been a mutual agreement; they couldn’t keep up the pretenses anymore and she was tired. They weren’t legally divorced yet, but did it matter? It was over. Although, Eve wasn’t feeling bad because of it.

She felt okay.

And that was her problem.

Elena’s voice and the rest of the coffee place had become white noise in her head. She didn’t miss Niko, well, not like _she should_. She didn’t _feel_ guilty their marriage had fallen apart. But then, should she even feel guilty for something it was both their faults? He certainly did look the part when he left the house.

“I’m going to stay with some friends.” Well, good for you, Eve wanted to say. She had just nodded. And then Niko closed the door and that was the last time she saw him and knew anything about him, since all her texts and calls had been left unanswered after that day.

And she has been completely alone since then.

And somehow feeling better than before.

God, she’s awful.

Poor Niko deserved better than her.

“Eve!!” Fingers snapping brought her back into the conversation, Elena and Kenny’s worried expressions on her. “Thank god you came back or I was going to throw my coffee at you.”

“Shit, sorry.” Those two words seemed to be all it came out of her mouth lately. She hasn’t been to most socially adept person in her life, but it was really showing now.

“Is there…something, Eve?” Kenny said carefully in that tone of his that was almost shy, almost sorry. But he did look worried, very.

“You know we’re here for you, Eve. For anything you might want to tell us. We know this isn’t the best of times.” Elena grabbed her hand that had been crumpling a poor napkin just moments before and squeezed it with care.

“Anything.” Then Kenny joined in his Kenny fashion, awkwardly putting his hand on top of theirs and looking at Elena has if asking if this interaction was correct, then looking at Eve. “Even if you stabbed someone.”

Eve squinted her eyes at him, and Elena shot him a look that sent him looking down to his tea. “Yes, we mean _anything._ ” She tried to save it.

“You guys really think I killed someone?” Kenny retracted his hand, embarrassed. This conversation wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.

“No, but Niko…”

“You think I killed Niko?”

“No!” People were starting to look over with their yelling, Eve noticed, mildly embarrassed too. She’s been hanging out quite often here after work, either with friends or most of the time alone, so she would appreciate whatever reputation she had here to remain intact.

“Okay, I’m just joking, but no, there’s nothing really.” Her coffee was starting to get cold. Eve hated cold coffee. And she didn’t very much like where this conversation was going. She wasn’t ready to…confess this feeling, or lack thereof.

“You sure? Because spacing out so hard like you just did is indicating something, Eve.” Kenny nodded. Eve shook her head. She wasn’t going to get away with it any longer…could she?

“I just…I can’t say it right now.” She really couldn’t, but she could acknowledge _something_ was up. “I’m not trying to push you guys away or anything like that, I’m just…”

“No, no, no, we get it, just…take the time you need, and you can tell us, okay?” God, Eve hated this. Looking at her friends understanding expressions and listening to their unconditional reassurance was making Eve feel sick. She didn’t deserve this.

Suddenly, the sounds of the coffee shop felt more alive than ever, the heat of the place was suffocating her, and her coffee felt like lead in the pit of her stomach, even more disgusting than it already was.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Sure, sure, go.” Elena and Kenny said quickly as Eve left in a hurry, unable to look at her friend’s in the eyes.

///

Splashing cold water on her face felt good, actually. Eve felt more awake now, her sudden sensory overload forgotten. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and realized how tired she looked, for the first time in weeks, it seemed.

“You look like shit.” She whispered to herself in the small restroom, the smell of coffee lingering in the air reminding her of where she was and why _the hell_ she was talking to herself. The sudden noise of one of the stall’s latches unlocking, too.

Eve busied herself by trying to tame her hair into a bun, internally hoping she hadn’t embarrassed herself further and that whoever was now washing their hands two sinks away from her hadn’t hear her.

She was going to go back there, pick up her stuff and leave. Yes, enough socialization for today, enough people, enough talk about feelings and such. Eve was going to leave and have a delightful night with the rest of the gin bottle she had at home.

“Wear it down.” Eve looked in the direction of the voice. It was the stranger. Her voice had a very distinctive accent, maybe Russian? She wasn’t sure, but it added to the mystery of those eyes watching her intently now. Eve didn’t move her hands from her hair, looking at this elegantly dressed woman saying…what did she say?

“What?”

“Wear it down. Your hair is amazing.”

Eve let out an incredulous laugh and the stranger shared a small smile, seemingly amused, too. But the look in her eyes—Eve didn’t know what to say—when was the last time someone had looked at her like this? As if she was the most interesting person in the world, as if trying to look inside her head for…something? Eve shook her head. She was really losing it with the lack of social interactions lately. But the stranger’s eyes were still staring at her, waiting for something.

“Thanks.” Her self-consciousness was showing bad, Eve thought as the stranger smirked at her comment and made her blush instantly. Well, goodbye dignity.

“You are welcome.” The stranger’s stare stayed on Eve until the restroom’s door closed as she left, walking with a self confidence she wished was contagious.

///

“Eve, can I ask you something?” Kenny blurted out before they left the place. Eve hummed in response, her hand nervously crumpling another napkin.

“There’s this woman over there that’s been staring at you nonstop since you came back from the restroom.” He was whispering, trying not to look suspicious although his quick glances were anything but. “Do you know her?”

And Eve knew she was being watched, she had caught glimpses of the other table amidst the people wandering around and yes, it was the stranger again with that predatory stare that was making Eve’s hair stand on end and forcing her to sit awkwardly while pretending not to know and _trying_ not to stare herself

“No, I haven’t noticed.” God, she was a shit liar. Why did she even want to lie about this? What was some weird encounter with this woman that put her off so much that she wanted to keep it to herself?

Eve glanced briefly to the table in the corner and there she was again; sitting with her legs crossed in a suit that was probably worth Eve’s last five paychecks, staring at her intently from afar with a cup of what she guessed was coffee in her hand.

“Look at you, Eve!” Elena’s fist collided lightly against her shoulder. “You still got it, see? A secret admirer!”

“Oh, shut up.” Eve was blushing again. This was ridiculous. She drank her cold, disgusting coffee that was much more appealing than this conversation.

“Don’t be shy! Go talk to her, you know, make more friends!”

“Gross.” Elena and Kenny laughed.

Eve forced herself to not look that way throughout the rest of their stay until they left the place, the pang of disappointment surprising her when the table she had been avoiding looking was empty.

///

A week had passed since the ‘restroom incident’ as Eve called it, and since then no trace of the woman from that day had come up. Not like she had been thinking about the stranger every time she was having a coffee after work or when she was reading a book and stealing glances at all the other busy tables. Not at all.

That’s why when she came in on a busy Monday afternoon she _definitely_ didn’t stop dead in her tracks right at the entrance, bumping into everyone leaving and entering the coffee place when Eve saw her, sitting in all her expensive glory while eating the sweetest looking piece of cake she had ever seen and looking straight at her with an amused expression. And Eve _definitely_ ignored her after quickly murmuring apologies, walking to the – _of course--_ busy bar to buy her bloody coffee.

What if she decided to leave instead? It’d been five minutes and Eve still hadn’t even been able to place her order yet. It’s not like she was running away, from who? Definitely not from the stare she felt glued to her back. Running from someone who was nice to her in a restroom? Paranoia much? No, she just wanted her coffee and she was tired of waiting on her feet after another day of being seated for hours and hours doing boring work and she would not go to her apartment and spend the rest of the day alone with her thoughts. No. She would wait. She was only being paranoid.

So, she did. Fifteen minutes later and she was already sitting on the other side of the shop, sipping on her simple black coffee and seemingly forgetting how to do so out of nervousness.

She had to focus, she had to continue her research; read, analyze, repeat. Three steps. Nothing to hard. And try not to look over at _that table_. Pull out all the papers from the folder in her bag, done. Pull out a pen, done. Read. Don’t look. Easy. Focus.

Ten minutes of forcing herself into reading and it was working, Eve no longer felt nervous, no longer wondered about the other woman staring at her, didn’t know even if she was still there until a slight tapping on her table broke her train of thought.

“Hey.” A deep, masculine voice and an awful smell of too much men’s cologne. Great. Eve looked at the source. A Niko lookalike. _Great._ He was holding a paper cup and a book under his other arm. Probably a teacher of some sort. Jesus. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“Um, no, why?”

“Do you mind if I sit here?” He was pointing at the empty chair right across from her. _God no._ She had to get out of this.

“I’m kind of busy right now.” Eve said, pointing at the papers scattered all over the table. _Take a hint and go, please._ She was so not in the mood for this.

“Oh, I’m sure you can stop for a while, right?” Eve’s mouth opened but nothing came out. _What the fuck._ He was already grabbing the chair, completely ignoring her subtle rejection.

“Look, I’m not trying to be --”

“Sandra!! The traffic was a nightmare.” A female voice interrupted her all of a sudden and looking at the source almost made Eve’s heart jumped up her throat. The stranger who she _swore_ had a Russian accent was now speaking with an impeccable English and was standing right beside her, and out of nowhere was cupping her face and giving a kiss on each cheek, as if they knew each other from _years._ It was all too much; her smell, the small smirk on her lips, her hands, the other guy staring at them with his hand still grabbing the back of the chair. “But I’m finally here.” The stranger eyed the man, slowly running her eyes from his feet up to his balding head in an almost menacing way that definitely seemed to do the job.

“Nice to meet you.” He said with haste and left the place. But Eve wasn’t paying attention to him anymore, she was looking with her mouth agape at the woman who was laughing and sitting in _that_ chair, not knowing what to say anymore.

“You didn’t seem fond of him.” Her accent from the other day was back and she had a big grin on her face, looking satisfied with the result of her previous actions.

“I have no idea who he was.” Eve managed to say without tearing her eyes away from the woman in front of her.

“It was very obvious you didn’t. Also, he seemed to be boring.” That made Eve let out a laugh.

“And you’re not?” The stranger crossed her arms across her chest and regarded her with an amused expression. She seemed to be enjoying this.

“I consider myself the complete opposite of boring.” She certainly looked the part too. Nothing about her extravaganza looked boring; not her clothes, not her attitude, not even that cake she was eating before. “Do I look boring to you…?”

“Eve. And no, you don’t look boring to me, but then, you’re here in this coffee shop on a weekday like all of us boring people so…” she shrugged, and the stranger leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “Other than that, I wouldn’t say you _look_ boring, um…?”

“Villanelle.” The stranger said. At least Eve had a name now. “Looks _can_ be deceiving, but do I get a chance to show you I’m not?”

Villanelle wouldn’t stop looking at her straight in the eye, but it wasn’t making Eve nervous now; she felt daring, as if she wanted to take a risk, whatever it was with this person in front of her. Villanelle didn’t look boring in any sense, but Eve felt as if her life had become as dull as a butter knife, like those friend reunions she used to reluctantly go with Niko that by the end of the night made her want to rip her hair off after talking about house decorations for hours, her life had become the embodiment of that.

“You don’t have to _show_ me anything, you don’t even know me, maybe I’m boring.”

Villanelle raised her brows and laughed incredulously at her comment, as if it was a joke, as if it wasn’t a reality for Eve that her life _was_ boring and that the only exciting part of it was after work when she was deep in thought in her research. Or when she had a bottle of wine at home and she didn’t feel so lonely anymore, when she didn’t have to _perform_ anymore.

“You are not boring, Eve, I’d say you’re the opposite of it.” She said it with so much certainty, as if she knew Eve personally by now. And Eve wanted to believe her, that _she_ wasn’t boring, that she wasn’t becoming this shell of a person. So, when Villanelle grabbed a napkin and pulled out a fountain pen from her jacket, a part of her couldn’t help but think _this_ was the chance she was looking for. Something new, something exciting, unknown. Something she deep down wanted.

Villanelle’s handwriting looked so elegant, even on a wrinkled napkin with coffee stains. She left it in front of Eve as she got up from her seat, and with a smirk left the place. Eve’s eyes stayed on her until she disappeared from her sight, and only then she read what was written.

_Call me for a good time._

_v._

At the bottom there was a cellphone number.

Eve saved the napkin in her coat pocket.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I...attempting to create a plot? Less likely than you think.

Two days later and that napkin on Eve’s pocket seemed to burn a hole through her clothes. It’s not like at night she actually thought about sending a message to that number, even saving it in her contacts. No at all. But it did seem more appealing with every hour of absolute boredom Eve was having.

Who’d have thought working at MI5 would be so boring, so dull? Maybe she had fantasized it too much when she got the job. What did she think? That she was going to be the next James Bond? Not really, but definitely _something_ more exciting than sitting on her ass all day reading boring reports from people who definitely had more fun than her at work. At this point, Eve’s only source of ‘fun’ came from some stupid grammar mistake she could find in one of those papers and Elena’s undying good mood.

She sighed into her black coffee, the steam blowing on her face. No, she wasn’t going to call Villanelle. She barely even knew the bloody woman, Jesus Christ. What if she was a murderer? She let out a small laugh, hiding it into her cup. Alright, the paranoia was really showing. No, Villanelle was only _flirting_ with her, Eve knew that. And she probably thought Eve would fall into her sweet trap of nice words and looks. She knew the right words to say to get almost convince her, that’s all.

Speaking of the devil.

Villanelle entered the coffee shop, this time in a more casual outfit—jeans, blazer and a shirt— but still looking more expensive than Eve’s entire wardrobe. By her side, a burly man with balding, grey hair wearing all black was talking to her. Maybe her father? Eve had no idea, but Villanelle seemed to be fond of him, smiling and doing faces at him, sometimes poking his ribs with her fingers. He ordered a sandwich and Villanelle another monstrous piece of cake.

Eve couldn’t stop watching their exchange. It was especially surprising watching the man rubbing Villanelle’s hair and pointing his finger at her while she just rolled her eyes. He left with his sandwich moments later. And Villanelle turned around to see her. And caught Eve looking. Great. And she _winked_ at Eve, walking towards her table with her order. _Great._

“So, what is a beautiful woman like you doing sitting on her own in this place?” Eve choked on her coffee as Villanelle sat down across from her again. It had to be _the corniest_ line someone had ever uttered to her in her life. Villanelle’s grin made it obvious it was part joke, and it worked, it did make Eve laugh, embarrassingly so; she could feel the coffee in her nostrils. Eve grabbed the napkin Villanelle was offering.

“You’re not funny.” God, could she save herself some dignity?

“I am hilarious, Eve. You just don’t want to accept it.” Villanelle said, taking a piece of her cake with a fork and slowly bringing it to her mouth. Eve tried not to look, busying herself in cleaning whatever coffee she had on her face and nose. “What brings you here today?”

“Coffee?” The ridiculous hope of seeing Villanelle again? No. “What about you? Hanging out with your dad?” Villanelle let out a loud laugh at this, putting her fork down on the plate.

“That fat guy from before? He’s my uncle.”

“Oh, alright.” She didn’t ask more. It wasn’t her place, anyway. Although, it didn’t stop Eve from being curious about it. She _wanted_ to know more about Villanelle, take a deeper look into this seemingly normal person eating chocolate cake in front of her.

“Don’t look at me like that, Eve.”

“Like that how?”

“Like you want to know more. You are going to prove I’m not boring and I haven’t even tried, yet.” Villanelle was looking at her again with that taunting expression, a slight smirk on her lips. As if this was a game and she was daring Eve to take the bait. Maybe she thought Eve would resist, would pull back, so Eve did the opposite. She leaned forward and rested her arms on the table, looking at Villanelle straight in the eyes.

“And what would be you trying?” Two could play this stupid game.

“Call the number I gave you and find out.” She winked at Eve, again and went back to finishing her cake. Eve scoffed.

“You want me to call you without knowing _anything_ about you? What if you’re a killer?” Villanelle’s eyes widened and stopped eating.

“What if _you_ are a serial killer?” Eve sipped her coffee. She was actually having fun with this game.

“I spend my days at work and then here drinking coffee. Pretty boring and uneventful for a psychopath.” Villanelle cleared her throat. 

“And you are an expert of psychopaths and serial killers?” Eve noticed there was a slight edge on her voice, yet it was still amicable.

“I used to study criminal psychology, maybe I know a thing or two.” Villanelle seemed to ponder on this for a minute before her lips broke into a grin that made Eve raise an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you full of surprises, Eve?”

“Maybe I’m not as boring as you thought I was.”

“I never thought you were boring, and this proves it. Also, to prove I am not a psychopath, ask me something.” So, she was now getting the chance to ask questions. Eve passed a hand through her hair trying to think of something to ask when she noticed Villanelle’s expression; the eyes following her movement, the wetting of her lips, her mouth slightly opening. It was not stroking her ego. No.

“Um, what do you do?” Easy question, basic information first.

“I’m a private investigator at my uncle’s agency.” _What?_ _What the fuck?_ Villanelle absolutely didn’t look the type, but then, what _was_ the type? A disgraced, gloomy man with alcoholic tendencies? Also, for all Eve knew, private investigators didn’t make enough money to buy clothes as expensive as the ones Villanelle usually seem to wear. “You look surprised.”

“I pictured you more as a lawyer or an accountant…” She was at a loss of words here.

“Well, we’re a _very_ exclusive agency, very efficient too, so we get paid well, if that’s what you’re wondering.” _Obviously._

“W-what do you usually do then?”

“Catch cheating husbands and wives, find dirt about someone else, the usual.” She said so casual. Suddenly something occurred to Eve. No, it couldn’t be.

“Am I being investigated or…” Niko wouldn’t…

“Me talking to you is personal pleasure, not work.” The way Villanelle said it, her accent suddenly rougher and voice lower, with appraising eyes made Eve bite her tongue to keep herself from doing something stupid. “Are you being naughty, Eve? Are you hiding something?”

Eve shook her head. This asshole. “I’m not.” Villanelle chuckled.

Well, she was hiding something, but if Eve was ever investigated it wouldn’t be from Niko.

Her research was nothing illegal, she wasn’t interfering with anyone’s investigation or getting information from obscure sources. Maybe it’d be frowned upon (definitely) but not illegal, and at least she was trying! Unlike whoever was in charge of the case at MI6 or whatever agency had it. It was her personal hunt, so to speak, and now probably one of the only sources of joy she had. Investigating a serial killer on her free time sounded more serious and insane all of a sudden. But no, it was nothing that could be hold against her. Nobody even knew what Eve worked on. Nobody knew. 

“But it’s so much fun if you do.” _It is fun._ Eve looked down at her hands, unable to keep looking at Villanelle’s intense stare anymore.

It seemed to be like Villanelle would enable whatever bad behavior Eve felt shame about. It made her chuckle too, unable to contain herself any longer. She looked at Villanelle in the eyes again, a slight grin on her lips.

“Maybe I am.”

“You see? You aren’t as boring as you make yourself look.” A hand lightly tapped on hers, lingering for a couple of seconds and Eve didn’t mind. Villanelle looked at her watch then, her expression sobering suddenly.

“I have to go.”

“Alright.” She didn’t even finish her cake and whatever remained of Eve’s coffee had gone cold and gross. Almost like her mood. She _was_ having fun with this conversation. Now, all that was left was going home, maybe watch a movie, maybe _try_ to cook something, maybe try not to die of boredom, maybe.

“It’s been a pleasure.” Villanelle was already on her feet, fixing her blazer and getting rid of crumbs. “You know how to contact me.” She winked at Eve and she just rolled her eyes.

“Don’t count on it.” Villanelle brought her hand to her chest, as if Eve’s comment had hurt and she wasn’t smiling.

“I know. But I’ll see you around anyway.” And with that she left, almost as if on a hurry.

The napkin in her coat pocket seemed to burn again as Eve watched her leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you for your feedback lads!!!!! It's fun to write this tho life is hard and busy right now I'll try to update whenever I got the time!!!! Thanks again!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lads, this is gonna be longer than I thought, just a heads up.  
> If you squint your eyes there's plot, but other than that we're keeping it sexy ladies.

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks since Eve last saw Villanelle. It’s not like she missed her. Not at all. She did have fun with their conversations, yes, but didn’t miss her. It did make Eve’s afternoons at the coffee place dull some days, but she had her research to worry about instead. And it _had been_ an eventful couple of days for that; multiple murders all around London, all carried on with the same fashion, the same display of flamboyance, the same as all the others Eve has been investigating for years. _She_ was here and Eve had no idea for how long.

_She_. Eve had mentioned it casually to Bill at some point and he’d laughed at her until he was gasping for air. Of course. That’s ridiculous, he would say. Leave it to the professionals. If only the professionals could find _one_ miserable clue about the identity of the murderer. Whenever their reports would show up on her desk, they were empty, no further information, no leads. They had fingerprints, but they belong to no one. How can you find a ghost in the system? Impossible. She _dared_ them to find her and yet nobody could even keep up. But Eve was trying. Unofficially, but she was. Unofficially but still legal.

But sometimes, facing what Eve was chasing after –who she was chasing after— made her question her morals, yet again.

Now, sitting on her usual table at the coffee shop, reading the newspaper with a cup of black coffee, was one of those times.

On the front page was the image of the last victim. A Russian politician visiting the country on vacations, it said. Found hanging from the tree outside of his rented house, pants down to his ankles, his security team composed of three people murdered too with their throats slashed viciously. Also, the poor guy had gotten his dick cut off.

Eve chuckled but stopped herself immediately. Was she becoming numb? This was a real human being murdered. Yet here she was laughing because this assassin had made another clear sign that this _was her again_. Eve sipped her coffee, her eyes still set on the face of the man in the cover. 

“You look like someone pissed on your coffee.” _What the fuck._ The voice brought her back to reality and there she was, wearing another pristine suit with an overcoat and a pair leather gloves on her hands that were _definitely_ more expensive than Eve’s wool, fingerless ones. That small feeling of insecurity was creeping slowly back up, but Eve kept it under control. No, she wasn’t twenty anymore to feel like this, she was forty-one for Christ’s sakes. “It’s been a while, Eve.” Villanelle smiled and casually waved at her with one gloved hand.

Eve was speechless for a second, her brain was trying to come up with a greeting, _anything_ that wasn’t looking at Villanelle with her mouth open. But she was failing, so she just said the first thing that came into mind.

“You’re not eating cake today?” Eve asked, trying to keep it cool. But Villanelle’s entire existence seemed to make this impossible. She was already sitting across from her when Eve spoke, smiling with that devilishly little smirk of hers, intertwining her leathered fingers.

“No sugar for me today. Gets me too excited.” Villanelle’s gaze wandered from Eve’s eyes, to her lips and down to the newspaper. She cleared her throat. “What are you reading today? Not working?”

Right, Villanelle probably thought Eve was obsessed with work, last time she had been here Eve had been reading articles and trying to put together information. But, could it be called work what she did in her free time? In a way, it _was_ work. Just not hers. Not her department’s work. But it had something to do with it. No, she was not going down the illegality rabbit hole again.

“Just reading the newspaper today, nothing exciting.” Villanelle seemed pensive all of a sudden, her brows furrowed, eyes locked on the face in the cover, but a small sideways smile was on her lips.

“What do you think of him?” Villanelle asked, her gazed on Eve again, one leathered finger tapping at the image of his face on the paper. Eve didn’t know what to answer.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think about the way he was killed?”

That was an odd question, but Villanelle was a private investigator, she was probably just as curious as Eve was about it. Which she shouldn’t. But she was being asked so she _had_ to answer.

“I think the murderer is a showoff.” So, Eve just said the truth. And Villanelle couldn’t hold back her laugh. She was grinning from ear to ear when she spoke again.

“What else?” Her voice was lower, her accent stronger and the lip biting wasn’t helping Eve. At all. _Focus._

“She’s a showoff and arrogant.” Villanelle seemed to be leaning closer, Eve could smell her perfume already.

“What else do you think about _her_?” A leg brushed against hers under the table, but Eve didn’t move away from it. Suddenly she felt warm.

“She’s no amateur. And is not afraid to get caught. It’s almost as if she _knows_ she won’t.”

“That’s a lot to deduce from an article in a newspaper, Eve. What makes you so sure they are even a woman?” Eve didn’t know if it was the rough, accented voice, or the knee that sometimes brushed the inside of her thigh, but she was feeling that long familiar heat coil inside her stomach. No matter they were inside a coffee shop with other people around, the smell of fresh brewed coffee lingering in the air. She had to calm down. Villanelle was doing this on purpose. Answer the question, move on. Or fight back.

“Just a hunch. And you asked me what I thought, there it is.” As Eve said it, her legs captured Villanelle’s between them, earning a sound that was a mix of surprise and approval from her. She wasn’t backing down, but wasn’t going forward either with their game, so they stayed locked in position, gaze unwavering between the two. Villanelle chuckled lightly.

“You are very good at this.” Eve smiled defiantly. It was much more fun fighting back than letting the world take over. “You’d make a good private investigator.” Eve laughed lightly and Villanelle followed, easing some of the tension and slowly letting go of each other’s legs.

“And catch cheaters with you?” A gloved hand tapped on hers again, just like the other day, but then stayed there. The leather felt cold against Eve’s skin, but she didn’t mind.

“I’m great company.” Villanelle winked at her and let go of her hand. “You wouldn’t know a boring day anymore.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Then let me show you.” There it was again, the invitation, the temptation to accept. Eve bit her lip. Villanelle was leaning back on her seat, waiting for an answer.

“I’m way too older than you.” She had to come up with an excuse, _any_ excuse. Villanelle only furrowed her brows. 

“I don’t see how that could be a problem.” A nervous chuckle escaped Eve’s lips. She needed to get out. The smell of coffee and Villanelle’s perfume had become suddenly too much.

“I need a smoke.” Eve grabbed her bag and got up, walking quickly towards the exit. She could feel Villanelle walking closely behind after murmuring something that sounded like ‘I’ll join you’, Eve wasn’t sure anymore.

It was the middle of winter, the wind so cold it seemed to burn Eve’s skin as she struggled to lit up the cigarette dangling from her lips. Out of courtesy, she offered one to Villanelle, who declined with a face. It was a disgusting habit, Eve knew it, but even then, Villanelle stayed at a prudent distance from the smoke, quietly looking at the night sky with her leathered hands in her coat pockets.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Eve.”

“And you don’t have to pretend with me, Villanelle.” Eve’s exasperation was making itself know. Her feelings after Niko left, work, this. She didn’t need it. It was making her emotions all over the place. She felt like the shittiest person in the world.

“It’s okay to want things.” Villanelle was looking at her now, a serene expression on her face, her breath visible with the cold.

Eve took a drag of her cigarette. She felt at the edge of the world and about to fall all of a sudden, as if she needed to get all of this out of her chest. 

“It’s not about _wanting_ things, it’s about _not feeling things_ …not feeling things like you _should_.” Eve said through the disgusting smoke of her cigarette. She threw it away in one of the ashtrays outside.

“How _should_ you feel things, Eve?” Villanelle’s voice had become serious, pronouncing every word carefully as she got closer to Eve, who was looking at the ground with a frown. 

“Like normal people.” Damn it all if she was going to talk about this now. Yes, she wanted to feel miserable for Niko and their dead marriage, but she wasn’t. She wanted to feel happy at her job that payed enough to live but wasn’t exciting anymore so she had to run a rogue investigation on a serial assassin _to feel something_. She wanted to feel like she didn’t desire Villanelle and her company at night after seeing her maybe twice. 

“Maybe trying to be normal is making you bored.” Villanelle got so close Eve could feel her breathing ghosting around her ear. “How do you say it…maybe you should take a leap of faith. Take and do what you want. See how it feels.” 

Has Eve ever done it? Take and do what she wanted, without that intrinsic fear of it? Not really. But Villanelle. She definitely did. She did whatever she wanted; she lived a life of want.

“How does it feel to you?” Villanelle laughed before her cellphone rang. Eve’s faint pang of disappointment was back again, watching her pull out the device from her pocket and not even bothering to answer. She hung up and put it back in her pocket, crinkling her nose as if annoyed. Eve laughed lightly. Villanelle had to go.

“You should find out, Eve.” She said, looking at the road as a black sedan approached slowly and then back at Eve with a smirk on her lips. “But, to me it feels like everything, if you want to know.”

The black sedan stopped right in front of them and a door opened, inside was the man from the other day, Villanelle’s uncle, who nodded at Eve as a greeting with a grin that didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

By her side, Eve could hear Villanelle sigh loudly at the sight of him. 

“Remember what I said, Eve.” A hand on the small of her back that seemed to linger longer than it should was Villanelle’s goodbye before slipping into the backseat next to the man she called Konstantine –right before poking him on his side— and closing the door.

Eve looked after the car until it disappeared in the distance and sighed loudly too.

God, she needed wine.

///

“What are you doing with that woman back there, Villanelle?” Konstantine asked, curious but cautious.

“We were just talking before your bald head showed up.” Konstantine laughed loudly, his signature belly laugh before his demeanor completely changed back to serious. “I wasn’t doing anything naughty, just like you asked.” Villanelle replied instantly and tapped the top of his head with her leather glove. He just hummed, eyeing her suspiciously.

“We are leaving London tonight.” Konstantine stated, and Villanelle knew it already.

“Where to?”

“Vienna.”

“How long?” Konstantine made a face.

“Why are you asking that?” Villanelle shrugged innocently.

“Just to know.”

“You have two days. No more, so make it count. After that you can take some time off. Lay low.” He wasn’t looking at her anymore but at the cars passing by.

Villanelle poked him on his side again and he yelped.

“Thank you, uncle.” He eyed her suspiciously while holding his side, shaking his head and then going back to looking outside the window into the night.

Villanelle laughed. It wouldn’t be so long until she could come back again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life's busy but ill try to keep yall updated soon, I kinda figure out how this is going to work so yeah  
> thank you!!! for all!!! yout feedback!!! lads!!! makes my day!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a long ass chapter with some plot development but it's necessary so we can go ahead with the good stuff, because, aint that the reason we are all here, lads?

Eve’s world had completely turned on its axis in a week.

The mystery killer had shown up again in Vienna, killing yet again another Russian politician – Victor Kendrin – and somehow Eve’s big mouth and Bill’s inability to shut her up had ended in a bizarre meeting with Carolyne Martens, who had agreed with what she had practically shouted at her.

The killer was a woman. Eve had confirmation now _from_ Carolyne Martens that she hadn’t been wrong all this time and meaning also that Bill could suck it.

But also it wasn’t even twenty fours hours after this that Eve had gotten fired.

From her job.

By Frank, for fuck’s sakes. Because Eve had disobeyed direct orders from him of _not getting involved in this case_. She had gone to secretly interview Victor’s girlfriend who was there at his moment of death. 12

Not her brightest moment, in retrospect. And maybe bordering on illegal this time.

If Eve hadn’t done it, she might’ve saved the couple of years that night took off from her.

Eve had never been to a murder crime scene before, so just stumbling with one, in a hospital of all places had made her rational brain shut down immediately and panic took over. She screamed until her throat was ragged and her lungs couldn’t cooperate anymore, she screamed, begged and pleaded for help until a guard finally came up running and saw her, trying to help Kendrin’s girlfriend who was already dead.

A week had passed, and Eve still couldn’t sleep with the lights off, or sleep at all.

Then she was fired, along with Bill of course, because he couldn’t keep his bloody mouth shut either.

And, as if it was a joke, they had been offered a job again the next day.

But this time it wasn’t MI5; it was an undercover operation. Eve had no idea if they were part of MI5 or MI6, the only thing she knew and Bill too, is that they reported directly to Carolyne Martens and no one else. She had said so herself. Nobody else could know.

And Eve didn’t care anymore, didn’t matter that she couldn’t trust Carolyne a hundred percent either.

This is the job she wanted. _This_ is what she had always wanted.

They were catching the killer she’d been following for a year now. With _her_ information as the main source.

A couple of days later, Elena and Kenny had joined their team. Now, they were learning how to work together.

That’s why these alone moments now became even more sacred to Eve. Working in teams could be hard with wounded pride and egos; theories being shot down and discussions taking place at all hours. They were all tired from each other at some point.

So, drinking her coffee at the usual place— finally in silence— felt liberating right now. The images of the hospital hadn’t vanished, and they wouldn’t for a long time, but if this was all the peace she could have, she’d welcome it gladly.

A peace that was interrupted with the feel of a warm hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“You look tired, Eve. You didn’t even realize I was standing here.” _Of course._ Villanelle was looking at her with an eyebrow raised perfectly, while holding a paper cup with her left hand and letting go of her shoulder with the right. “Always thinking so loud.”

“Hi to you too. And I don’t do that.” Eve hadn’t seen her in a week, since she left in that black car with Konstantine. And now here she was, seated across from her again, wearing another fancy suit with another fancy and expensive overcoat, but this time bare handed. With the way she was holding the cup, Eve could see a thin red line that ran across her hand, something like a scratch or a cut that had been a little deeper than superficial. But Villanelle didn’t mind, she kept looking at Eve from above the rim of her cup while sipping on it.

“You’re doing it right now while staring at me.” Villanelle chuckled lightly. “If you can’t sleep at night, I could give you a hand.”

_Jesus fucking Christ._ Eve couldn’t see with the cup in between but _she knew_ Villanelle was grinning behind it, her eyes said it all. She wanted to groan. The last thing she needed at night was thinking about Villanelle _giving her a hand_ while she couldn’t sleep.

“I think I can manage my insomnia on my own, but thanks.” Not really, but was there any other way?

“As you wish.” Villanelle seemed satisfied with herself, comfortably sitting and sipping her coffee with a smirk on her face. Asshole. “But you still have time to change your mind.”

Eve laughed. “And why is that?” Villanelle lowered her paper cup –finally—and leaned forward, as if about to share a secret.

“I won’t be able to share a coffee with you right now because of work, but…” Eve was leaning forward too without noticing, trying to listen to Villanelle’s low voice. “I’m free after eight tonight…”

She wasn’t giving up, was she? They were close enough that Eve could smell Villanelle’s perfume again mixed with coffee.

Eve grinned, only to throw off Villanelle and her little game. If she had learned something lately, it’d been that playing along was far better than anything else.

“And what if I call?” Villanelle seemed surprised for a second, but they were so close Eve could see the smallest widening of her eyes at her question, although she quickly composed herself.

“We do whatever you want.” The way Villanelle said it made goosebumps raise on her skin. It wasn’t helping they were so close and could _see_ the want in her eyes.

For a moment, Eve thought about running, treating what she’d just said as a joke and let it go.

But she was tired. She was _so_ tired. And they had gotten this far already, what was the damage on letting it go further? Just a bit. As long as it didn’t get out of control…

“Maybe I will.” In a daring move, Eve lightly poked Villanelle’s shoulder, wearing a teasing smirk on her face. Maybe it was the stress, making her brave enough tonight to pull all of this off, maybe she was being an idiot and letting her hormones take over, but she _was tired._

“Maybe you should.” Villanelle’s harsh and low accent was back, but with a sigh she leaned back again. It felt almost as if breaking a spell to Eve. “I’ll be going now. And stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me alive.” She was smirking the asshole, already up and checking her watch. “I’ll be waiting.” She winked and quickly left the coffee shop with her paper cup. Only when Eve couldn’t see her anymore, she realized her jaw was clenched tight.

Frustration was boiling right under her skin.

She needed a drink. 

//

Eve’s rational part of her brain _knew_ that her drinking was becoming an issue, especially after recent events…but it was her way of coping, for now. Until she found something else that wasn’t smoking. Which was hard considering even her hobby had to do _now_ with work. But it was a momentary thing.

Although four days ago Eve wasn’t thinking straight when she bought ten bottles of shitty wine, she had already drunk four and was going for the fifth, so, all in all, it wasn’t a complete waste. And of course she wasn’t drinking it and staring at the wall, no; drinking while cleaning the kitchen, washing the dishes, throwing away the trash that consisted only of empty bottles and containers of frozen food, cleaning and organizing her office _and_ staring at a napkin that was neatly placed on the dinner table.

Eve had to admit that right now she was doing the latter rather intensely.

While sipping on her mug with wine, with Bruce Springsteen playing softly in the background.

And right now, the fifth bottle wasn’t feeling strong enough and Dancing in the dark was grating on _her nerves_. 

Eve wanted something _strong_ , right now. She felt daring, savage feeling begging to be released and it was making Eve drink her wine in two gulps and refilling the mug yet again, sometimes making her pace around the house restlessly, almost in circles like a caged animal. Feral with a side of nerves. And looking at that napkin wasn’t helping.

Because she knew if she called Villanelle, she’d be more than willing to enable whatever impulse Eve might have. Whatever it was. Because for Villanelle there was nothing wrong with wanting and getting what you want, except that for Eve that was a problem.

A problem that slowly was becoming distant.

Especially tonight, with quite a couple of mugs of wine inside her body making her skin warm.

_And_ with a cellphone in her hand, Villanelle’s number already typed in.

All Eve had to do was press the call icon on the screen. It was already nine, Villanelle had said she was free after eight.

Another sip of wine, another annoying Bruce Springsteen song playing on the radio. The only reason Eve didn’t turn it off was because it was _way better_ than to be in silence in this empty house, alone with her thoughts.

Maybe she could watch a movie and forget about all this.

Maybe.

Maybe she could call Villanelle and speak and laugh and tease for a moment. Go back their game.

Maybe it would ease this _ache_ for _something_ inside.

Maybe.

She pressed the icon.

Eve bit her lip.

Villanelle picked up at the third ring, too soon for Eve to compose herself.

“You called.” It was all Villanelle said. It was a mocking tone; Eve could imagine the smirk on her face as she said it. Her lip was hurting with the pressure.

There was a charged silence, in which Eve was _trying_ to reply with some smart-ass comment, or just basically _anything_ that indicated she wasn’t dead or in shock or nervous. Maybe it was the wine, the alcohol in her head already, but this entire situation felt like a dream.

Instead of words, all it came out of her mouth was a snort and a laugh.

Not the response she wanted but it was something. It eased her nerves at least. Good ice breaker.

“What’s so funny, Eve?” She was teasing, sounding so _pleased_ with herself. If only Eve could erase that stupid smirk from her head, that would be great, because there were so many ways, she could think to wipe it off Villanelle’s face. No. Focus. Breath in. Breath out.

“Were you waiting for my call?” Good, at least she could keep a neutral tone of voice. It was good Villanelle couldn’t see her face right now, because otherwise she _would know_.

“Maybe. I like talking to you, and today we didn’t really have the chance.” _I like talking to you._ Eve was trying not to let it get to her head, but she was failing. In her head, she could imagine Villanelle’s face as she said it.

It wasn’t helping.

Think. Fast.

“But we never really talk. Like really talk.” Villanelle chuckled lightly and listening to that sound so close to her ear was making Eve bite her lip again, her hand not holding the cellphone clenching around her almost empty mug with wine.

“What do you mean with ‘really talk’?”

“That I don’t know much about you.” Villanelle sighed. Eve laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t interrogate you.”

“If you do, just know that I’m difficult to get information from, Eve. You might have to torture me before.” The way she said it made it clear she didn’t mean _torture_ in the usual way. Eve closed her eyes shut for a moment.

Do. Not. Fall. For. This.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” She pinched the bridge of her nose lightly at Villanelle’s laugh.

“Tell me then, what do you want to know?” _Everything._ That was the first thought Eve had. Keep it simple.

“Where are you from? And don’t be a smart-ass.”

“Russia.” No city? At least it confirmed Eve’s suspicion about her origins. She would take it. “Such a boring question, you probably knew that already. My turn now.” Eve could _hear_ the smirk on her face. “What were you doing before you called?”

_Drinking wine, thinking about calling you, you._

“I was drinking wine and watching a movie.” The last part was a lie, but Villanelle didn’t need to know that. Eve heard a small laugh.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not really.”

“Wine hangovers are gross, why don’t you drink vodka instead?” It was Eve’s turn to laugh.

“Yeah, they are pretty awful, but vodka is the devil.”

“What? Why?” Villanelle’s fake indignant tone made Eve smile. She could picture her with a hand on her chest and a fake hurt expression.

“You don’t even realize you’re drunk until you start babbling nonsense. Also, I’m more of a gin girl, thank you.”

“Eve, you’re hurting my Russian pride. You should try _real_ vodka.” Her accent was thicker as she said it, Eve noticed, so she pushed forward.

“Are you going to show me, then? The Real Russian vodka?” Villanelle chuckled lowly.

“I will gladly, all you have to do is call.” Her voice was liquid smooth as she said it, a promise for _something_ was clear.

“I will, then.” Villanelle hummed, sounding seemingly content with her answer.

_So,_ they basically had agreed on a night out for drinks.

No, it wasn’t a date. Just drinks with a friend (Was Villanelle _a friend, even?_ ). And Eve had been given the power to decide _when_. With just a call. Easy.

Eve drank the last of her wine in one swift motion, grimacing at the aftertaste and closing her eyes shut. No more cheap wine after this.

Maybe she had hit the limit with that last bit of alcohol in her system, but when Eve opened her eyes again the bookshelves seemed to move around a bit.

“Did you just gag, Eve? That must be a really shitty wine you’re drinking.” In fact, she did just gag. She was forty-one for Christ’s sakes, she shouldn’t be drinking wine like a shot anymore, or wine –cheap wine—at all for that matter.

“Oh, shut up.” But Villanelle was right, _it was_ a shitty wine. They both laughed and Eve felt as if she was melting from inside out onto her couch. Her body felt lighter, her head too and she was smiling like an idiot. But she felt at peace, for some reason, like tension had been lifted off her shoulders. Which was how she usually felt after talking to Villanelle.

“Make me.” At peace, but at the same time frustrated. As if that made sense, but lately, what _did_ make sense anymore? Frustrated because she did love her talks with Villanelle, but at the same time Eve wanted more of her; see her more, talk to her more, _touch her_ more.

Eve bit her lip. She _wanted_ more.

“Maybe I will next time.”

“I dare you to try.” The small sigh before Villanelle said those words made Eve’s breath hitch in her throat. “Surprise me.”

Before Eve could answer, a loud sound from the other side of the line interrupted her. It sounded like the banging of a door, followed by Villanelle groaning against her ear and saying some words in Russian, Eve figured. She sounded annoyed, like that night when they were outside the coffee place and Konstantine called.

“That must be my angry uncle.” The sound of a palm against wood didn’t stop for more than three seconds, and it was getting louder until Villanelle yelled something again in another language. “I’m sorry but it seems to be urgent, otherwise he wouldn’t be so _rude._ ” Eve laughed, she was sinking further and further into her couch, with her eyes closed.

“It’s okay if you have to go.” Eve said. It wasn’t okay but what other option they had? That now familiar pang of disappointment was making itself know. “Go get it before he kicks down your door.” Eve giggled and couldn’t stop for a moment.

“Wow, and you should go to sleep and throw that wine in the garbage where it belongs.” The loud banging resumed halfway through her sentence. Villanelle sighed, harshly. “See you soon, Eve.” Villanelle sounded something between annoyed at the noise and amused at Eve’s laugh and her attempt at saying goodbye.

Villanelle hung up first, her light laugh echoing in Eve’s ear as her small fit came to a stop; she was sprawled on her couch, her face buried in between some hard pillows but she didn’t mind. Slowly, her breathing became slower until everything faded to black, a small smile on her lips.

///

“What took you so long?” Konstantine sounded annoyed but not angry, Villanelle noticed. And she was annoyed too.

“You are so rude Konstantine, didn’t your mom teach you manners on how to knock on a door?” She stomped back to her room, her silk pajamas flowing around her body as she angrily went back to bed. “You keep interrupting me when I’m busy.”

“I’m sorry but you weren’t answering, and this is very important. Last minute news.”

“This better be good, you little man.” Villanelle threw a ball of paper at Konstantine who was standing by her bed now. He tried to catch it but was too slow, it hit him on the chest.

“It is, and it concerns you.” She raised an eyebrow, curious.

“Go on.” Konstantine seemed rattled by this, his jaw was set tight.

“There is a department in London trying to find you.” A smile broke on her lips and Konstantine frowned. “No, it’s no good, Villanelle. It’s a closed operation, we don’t know anything about it yet.”

Konstantine began to pace around the room but Villanelle wasn’t paying no mind to it, suddenly _excited_ about this.

“We are working on it. You just need to remain subtle for now.” Villanelle grinned.

“I can be subtle, but it’s going to be _expensive._ ” Konstantine stopped his pacing and locked his eyes on hers for a couple of seconds before nodding.

“We’ll be watching and inform you of any information we get. Your next job.” From the inside of his coat he pulled out a postcard and handed it to Villanelle, but before she could grab it, he pulled it away. “Remember what I just said. Be subtle.” Villanelle rolled her eyes and tried to snatch it back but failed.

“I know, I will.” He looked at her one last time before finally handing her the postcard.

“See you soon, Villanelle.” Konstantine rubbed the top of her head before heading out, walking with his hands clasped behind his back.

“See you soon.” He wasn’t there anymore to hear her.

Villanelle felt adrenaline kicking in, _excitement_. An almost nervous laugh escaped her lips while looking at the postcard.

An entire department in charge of finding her?

She was going to have _so_ much fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and feedback lads!!! Much appreciated!! Thanks yall!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lads, I'm delirious with fever but here ya go.

In the two weeks since Eve had last seen Villanelle, her sanity was quickly running out. They still couldn’t find _anything_ of importance at _any_ of the new murder scenes, even though they were plagued with fingerprints that they couldn’t do anything with. And, the worst part, the murders were rising in the gruesome level; Eve remembers Bill throwing up at the last one of the _three_ these past two weeks.

“I’m getting to old for this shit.” He had said, cleaning his mouth with a napkin. But Eve had only nodded. He had such a reaction at seeing the murder scene, yet Eve…

Eve had felt nothing. Indifference almost. In fact, she only felt _something_ when she realized she had _felt nothing_ towards the victim. Towards the gruesome details of it all. She had felt…shame. Was Eve getting so used to see this image she felt numb? A reaction like Bill’s was normal, but hers…

Eve had been going for the second sleepless night of the week when she got a text from Villanelle.

 **[23:34 PM. V]** _Maybe we’ll see each other again tomorrow at the usual place_ 😏☕

Her heart flipped, and her breathing shorten slightly. She was too old to be feeling like a lovesick teenager.

Eve didn’t reply, but a restlessness with a side of excitement stayed with her all night.

It’s not like she had left work a bit earlier because of _Villanelle_. Absolutely not. She could work just fine everywhere she wanted, and the coffee shop was convenient. She could process her thoughts better there, that’s all.

Also, it’s not like her heart flipped _yet again_ at the sight of Villanelle, who was already sitting at Eve’s usual spot sipping a coffee and staring straight at her as Eve came inside. It’s not like her heart shrunk a bit when she got closer and noticed a bruise around Villanelle’s right eye, a painful looking swelling that she carried as if it was nothing.

“What the hell happened to your eye?” Was all Eve could manage to say as she sat down. Even with a bruised face Villanelle’s smirk was ever present, her bare hands resting around the cup of steaming coffee on the table.

“Hello to you too, Eve.” Villanelle’s voice was calm and collected, with a tint of playfulness so normal in her now. But Eve was anything but calm. And Villanelle could see that, since she laughed at her probably very worried expression. “I just wanted it to match my outfit.”

Eve snorted. This asshole. Even with a bruised eye Villanelle did manage to match her outfit with the bruising, all black and dark shades of the same purple. “I don’t believe you. What happened? Did you get mugged?” Probably Eve shouldn’t worry so much about it, certainly Villanelle _didn’t look_ like she cared. She had just shrugged at her questions.

“A job that didn’t go as smooth as it should. It happens.” She shrugged nonchalantly again, and Eve nodded.

“So, you got caught?” Eve said between a laugh that escaped her lips. Villanelle arched an eyebrow.

“I didn’t get caught.” She leaned forward slightly towards Eve, who did the same. “Sometimes to lure out a big rat, you need a good bait. An _attractive_ bait.” Villanelle said, her voice low and grin on her lips.

“And you were the bait?” Eve copied Villanelle, leaning forward with her arms crossed on her chest, a slight grin on her lips too. Villanelle seemed to enjoy this little defiance from her part, her grin got wider.

“Absolutely. Am I not a good bait, Eve?” Eve slowly ran her eyes across Villanelle’s face, neck and the rest of her body. She only tilted her head to the side, clearly amused and waiting for an answer.

“Arrogant much?” Eve was not going to say _yes, absolutely_ to Villanelle. No way. Villanelle laughed.

“You don’t have to say it; I see it on your face.” Suddenly, Eve’s forehead was being poked by Villanelle’s index finger and Eve frowned. Villanelle chuckled lightly and put her hand away.

“What do you see then?”

“That you really need a coffee right now.” As if on cue, one of the baristas brought a paper cup to their table, told them to have a good afternoon and quickly left. Eve’s mouth was slightly open at this. What the hell?

“Did you do this?” She asked, incredulous. Villanelle just shrugged again.

“If you ask nicely you can get anything you want, Eve. Even service to your table here.” Villanelle winked. “Do you want to go on a walk?”

Inside Eve’s head a million question marks saturated every thought she had. She looked at the paper cup again. It wasn’t like Villanelle was giving her a choice. Also, Eve had been sitting all day at the office. It wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Sure.” Villanelle smiled. A smile that reached her eyes this time, a genuine smile. She was up in no time.

That was the thing about Villanelle, Eve thought. For all her playfulness and wit, every smile never quite reached her eyes. She could be grinning, and her eyes could be cold and calculating.

“Come on.” Villanelle extended her hand towards Eve, looking _excited_. Eve stared at her for a second before snorting at her gesture.

Still, Eve grabbed her hand and squeezed lightly.

////

“Judging by the paper cup, you had this all planned out already.” Villanelle, who was walking with her hands clasped behind her back just shrugged.

“Maybe I just wanted some air.”

“Maybe.” Eve rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee for the first time. “How did you know what to order?” It was Villanelle’s turn to roll her eyes.

“You always order the same black coffee; it wasn’t that hard.” She said, matter-of-factly. Eve eyed her suspiciously. “You’d be an easy prey for a killer, Eve.” Villanelle wasn’t laughing this time.

Eve ignored the chills running down her spine. What if the killer she was after knew about her already? What if _she_ knew her routine? That she lived alone? That she frequented the same coffee shop every day after work? A million questions plagued her mind once again, but Villanelle’s hand on her forearm took her back. Eve didn’t even realize she had stopped walking.

“It was a joke, Eve.” Again, that reassuring smile that quite didn’t reach her eyes.

“I know.” She sounded breathless. _Get it together._ “Have you ever had a close encounter with a killer in you job?” It was a genuine question Eve had and, for some reason, the first thing that came to her mind. Villanelle inspected her with a serious expression for several seconds, and Eve noticed a slight trembling on her upper lip.

“Not really.” It was a short, clipped answer, so unlike her. Eve raised an eyebrow at her sudden odd behavior. “Other than someone throwing things at me, not really.” Another smile. Another cold gaze. “Why the question? Have you?”

Eve shrugged. “Just wanted to know. And no, I haven’t.”

Villanelle wouldn’t stop looking at her, even when they resumed their walk through the London streets at night.

“You owe me several questions after the other day on the phone. Where do you work, Eve?”

“I work for the MI5.” Technically not anymore, but Carolyne had forbidden any mention of their secret operation to the outside. Villanelle’s didn’t need to know that. _Couldn’t_ know that, anyways. Either way, this seemed to capture her interest; her eyes widened instantly.

“Aren’t you full of secrets…our jobs aren’t so different after all.” Villanelle nudge Eve’s side in a playful manner. “Are you in some secret hunt for a killer now?” Eve almost choked on her coffee as she sipped.

“Nothing _that_ exciting, I’m afraid. Sorry to disappoint.” But Villanelle didn’t seem disappointed at all, if anything, she looked absolutely excited about this, even her eyes seemed to sparkle under the streetlights. “Just another boring desk job.”

“So, no secret operation? No catching bad guys?”

“Not at all.” Eve maybe was holding the paper cup a bit too tight with this line of questioning. She _was part_ of a secret operation. She _was trying_ to catch bad guys. More like a bad _girl_ , but, whatever. Villanelle didn’t need to know that. It was all classified. So, Eve tried to remain calm under the scrutinizing stare she was under.

“Well, if you were in a secret operation you wouldn’t say so either.” _Remain calm._ Villanelle smirked. Eve sipped her coffee, almost forgetting how to do so. “And a desk job would be a good cover.” The coffee was burning down her throat. She kept trying to walk, begging her feet not to stop. “I’m joking, by the way.”

Eve laughed, a nervous, maniac laugh. “I know you were.” She kept laughing. Villanelle wore a small smile on her lips.

Suddenly nauseous, Eve threw her cup in a trash can. “Too many questions, now you answer me.”

“Of course, boss.” Eve rolled her eyes, still trying to go back to her normal heartbeat rate.

“How did you get that bruise? Specifically.” She needed to redirect the conversation somewhere safe.

“A telephone.” Villanelle said plainly.

“A telephone?”

“Yup.”

“How?”

“The guy threw a telephone at me.” Villanelle said it like it was the most normal thing in the world, almost sounding bored.

“And what happened?” Again, that cold smile that didn’t reach her eyes. The hair on the nape of her neck stood on end at the sight. But it was gone in a second almost.

“I left before something else happened.” The way she said it…Eve wasn’t completely convinced. There was something off; about that smile, about the way she spoke just now. Before Eve could analyze her further, Villanelle kept on. “Safety first, right?”

“Right.” Eve nodded. “Did any of the other cases you worked on these past weeks give you another bruise?” Villanelle shook her head.

“Nope, only one problematic little man.” Eve laughed. “Some pretty busy weeks too, so it wasn’t very nice of him.”

It was a coincidence Eve realized a couple of nights ago; every time Villanelle was working and generally M.I.A., Eve was busy too with the assassin they were after. If she thought about it, it happened _every time_. It was almost funny. It made her laugh out loud at the absurdity of the thought.

“Are you making fun of my eye?”

“Not at all.” Eve was still laughing when she spoke. It wasn’t as if the assassin looked at her schedule to go on a murder spree so it wouldn’t interfere with whatever it was Villanelle and she had.

“Making fun of the wounded is not very nice either, Eve.” Villanelle nudged her side again. They were so close Eve could smell her perfume again, almost feel the heat radiating from Villanelle. Eve nudged her back.

“And what are you going to do about it? Throw a telephone at me?” Eve’s laugh died down once she was being pushed to the side towards an empty and dirty looking alley. Villanelle’s entire body collided against hers as she hit the brick wall, hands caging her in place. The sudden movement made her heart race as adrenaline took over, leaving her shaking.

“You fucking scared me, Christ.” Eve didn’t try to push her away. Their faces were barely inches apart, her breathing visibly mixing with Villanelle’s. She could see the bruising around her eye better from this distance, also the infuriating way her lips were set in that annoying smirk.

“Did you think I was going to hurt you, Eve?” There was absolutely no _need_ for Villanelle to speak as low as she was doing, or to look at her that way.

“No.” It was all she could say.

“Let me ask you one final question.” Villanelle leaned forward, her mouth hovering just above Eve’s ear. “What do you really want to do right now?”

This question again. It seemed to break something inside Eve’s mind. She could only stare at Villanelle for what seemed an eternity, watching her breath, looking into those deep grey eyes that seem to want to eat her alive, looking at that bruise surrounding her eye; a mix of different shades of purple and red in some places. When was the last time she felt so _aware_ of someone else? Of herself? Of what she wanted?

“Don’t lie to me, Eve. Don’t hide. Tell me.” Villanelle’s insistence was making her feeble attempt at denial impossible. It was making her knees weak, too. It made her grab Villanelle’s coat by the lapels and pulled her even closer, needing the closeness, the smell of her.

Villanelle didn’t move, only seemed to wait for Eve to do whatever she wanted.

So, she did.

Eve kissed her roughly, lips and teeth and hands grabbing anywhere she could, trying to pull her closer. Villanelle’s hands were lost in her hair, her breathing as erratic as Eve’s when she started kissing down her neck and pushing her fully against the wall. It was too much, it took every ounce of strength in her body to not moan, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Hold on, hold on.” Eve could barely talk anymore, her hands grabbing either side of Villanelle’s face to bring her to eye level again. It was all too much. She was going to faint if they kept going. Villanelle couldn’t speak either, it seemed, she only stared with half lidded eyes. Eve noticed her fingertips were over the bruising on Villanelle’s face, and as in a way to recover her breathing, she slowly traced around it with her thumb. Villanelle didn’t mind, she even let out a small laugh and a smile.

“’I’m sorry I—”

“It’s okay, Eve.” Villanelle closed her eyes for a moment, pleased with the soft caress against her skin. Eve didn’t even know why she was apologizing; she knew she shouldn’t. Yet, here she was.

“I know, it’s just that it was too much.” Villanelle opened her eyes again.

“Too much?”

“I thought I was going to pass out.” Eve admitted. It had been something she’d been longing for a while, and to actually do it, actually _kiss_ Villanelle and touch her and taste her had made Eve’s head spiral out of control. Villanelle snorted comically at this, untangling her hands from Eve’s hair and brushing her lower lip with her thumb, exactly the place Eve had bitten before while trying not to moan.

“You flatter me.” Eve sighed, suddenly feeling as if a ton of weight had been lifted off her back. She felt _free._ Awake almost. As if she had been in a deep slumber before this night. Villanelle leaned forward and kissed her lightly again. Eve didn’t stop her. It was short kiss, right where her thumb had been before, just above the cut she could feel still warm.

“I wasn’t trying to.” Eve whispered.

“I know.” Villanelle laughed genuinely and Eve smiled but none of them moved away from the other, until the sound of Eve’s cellphone interrupted.

“Sorry, I need to pick up.” Villanelle nodded.

Reluctantly, Eve pulled away from Villanelle’s body to take the call, her legs still feeling like jelly.

To say she wanted to _kill_ Bill right now would be an understatement.

“Please tell me you’re calling for something important or I swear I’ll poison your coffee tomorrow.”

“Hello, Eve. And yes, it is important. Pack your best clothes because we’re going to Berlin in two days. Carolyne’s orders.” _What. What the fuck._ Things were spiraling out of control _everywhere_ in her life and _too fast._ Villanelle was only a couple of feet away, checking her cellphone with a bored expression.

“Why?”

“The police there just discovered one of our friend’s gory presents. Poor bloke spent two days rotting.” Bloody Christ. Eve ran a hand through her hair.

“Are at the office right now?” They _never stayed_ and of all days it had to be _now?_ Unbelievable.

“You might be surprised but yeah. Elena and Kenny are here too so bring food, it’s going to be a long night.” Eve sighed.

“Alright, see you guys there.” She shoved her phone back inside her coat pocket.

“You look tired, Eve.” Villanelle said calmly, putting her phone away too. “Work?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like we’re both busy with work tonight, then.”

“You too?” Villanelle yawned and walked closer towards Eve.

“Yup.”

So, that was it for tonight then.

Suddenly, Eve wished she hadn’t stopped the kiss. But then, the interruption would’ve been inevitable. Eve laughed and Villanelle arched an eyebrow.

“Thanks for the coffee.” She sucked at this. How was she supposed to act after you kissed someone? It’d been _years_ , no, _decades_ , since Eve had kissed someone else that wasn’t Niko. What were you supposed to do? Definitely not thanking for the coffee because Villanelle laughed on her face yet followed the game.

“You’re welcome. Any time.” She said, clearly amused. And Eve couldn’t blame her. She laughed too. “See you again, Eve?” Villanelle asked, her intentions clear.

“Yeah. See you again.” They shared a look before heading in different directions. Eve couldn’t hide the smile on her lips, it was making her cheeks hurt. 

_Hopefully again will be soon._

////

“Listen to me, Villanelle. This is just surveillance work, understood?” Villanelle nodded again. It was the fourth time Konstantine said the _exact_ same thing.

” Our source told us the department after you is going to investigate to Berlin. Pay attention. And please, don’t be naughty.” He handed her the plane tickets and fake documents for the trip.

“This is crucial, Villanelle.”

“Why don’t you have a glass of champagne and calm down, Konstantine?” Villanelle was lying across the hotel bed, still in her clothes and with a glass with champagne in one hand while Konstantine was pacing relentlessly around the room. “You look like a caged bear. And not as cute. Sit down.”

Again, he didn’t listen to her. But instead, he stopped pacing around.

“Be careful and again, don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“I’ll contact you in three days.” And he left as quickly as he came in an hour ago.

But Villanelle’s mind wasn’t on the job ahead, instead, it was on those lips she had tasted earlier and those soft, wild curls that’d been around her hands.

“See you soon, Eve.” Villanelle smiled, raising her glass towards the ceiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your feedback!!!!!!! It really makes my day when i see your comments yall!!! Thanks for the support!!

**Author's Note:**

> all your feedback is appreciated!!


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